


Memory Lane

by Siberianskys



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-31
Updated: 2008-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siberianskys/pseuds/Siberianskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is not a death fic. There is a major character who is dead through most of the story, but he died in the past not on the page or as a major part of the plot.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a death fic. There is a major character who is dead through most of the story, but he died in the past not on the page or as a major part of the plot.

Sam sat at a table against the dingy wall rolling his glass of Southern Comfort between his palms. He still wasn't sure why he'd even come in here. Crash was the kind of dive that he usually avoided on principle, well not principle exactly, more like self preservation. Even after all these years, places like this still reminded him of his life road-tripping with Dean. Quickly downing his drink, he reached for the half-full bottle of amber liquid to pour another couple of fingers and froze, his hand dropping back to the table top. He was being watched. He felt eyes boring into him from somewhere in the crowd. Shifting in his chair, he let his eyes drift around the bar, searching for the far too interested party. His heart pounded and blood pressure rose as he met the hard stare of his late brother's doppelganger or more likely a Skinwalker or Trickster wearing Dean's face. He reached for the silver bullet loaded revolver at his back, pausing as he noticed this version of his brother looked younger than he'd been when Dean had collected him from Stanford to help search for their father. He shuddered as a repressed memory from long ago came flooding back.

***

Hearing the roar of the Impala's engine die outside the motel room door, Sam closed his book and yawned as Dean pushed into the room, herding a small boy in front of him and clutching the handles of two duffle bags of what better be clean laundry in his hands.

"Thought you were going to find us a job," Dean said, jerking his head toward the lap top on the table across the room.

"That's what you want to talk about?" Sam asked, looking at the boy pointedly as he swung his legs off the bed.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," Dean said with a smirk.

"Yeah, like Dad missed that puppy you tried to sneak in under your coat when you were 10."

Dean dropped the bags and kicked the door closed. "He was waiting by the car when I got out of the Laundromat," Dean said in a bored tone, like this was something that happened every day.

"And you didn't call Children's Services, the cops, somebody? Dean, he's probably been reported missing by now. If--"

"I don't think so," Dean said thickly.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean scooped up the boy and carried him to Sam.

Moving slowly, so he wouldn't frighten the child, Sam curled his fingers gently under his chin and tilted up his face. The resemblance was uncanny. "You think--"

"I think his mother recognized the car and decided it was my turn," Dean said cradling the boy against his side.

"Dean, you can't just--"

"You turned out okay, didn't you?" Dean challenged, eyes pleading.

Sam acquiesced. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean was right, he had turned out okay--more than okay if he was honest with himself.

***

Slamming down the cue, Alec moved around the table, ignoring the shouted queries of Logan, Max and Sketchy. He'd almost made it to the door, when the man, all too familiar even with the passage of time and changes in grooming blocked his way.

"Jack?" Sam asked.

"Don't call me that. I'm not him. I can never be him," Alec said angrily, pushing roughly by.

"Please, I need to talk to you," Sam said.

"Leave me alone," Alec snarled, snagging his hands in the other man's jacket and sending him flying into a table. He ran up the steps and out of the bar without checking to see if he'd done any real damage.

***

Alec paced back and forth across Logan's living room floor, head hung low and hands shaking. He jumped when the front door banged open.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Max snapped.

"Not now," Logan warned, shooting her a dirty look as he moved into his lover's path.

Alec stopped, staring at his feet, refusing to show Logan his red-rimmed eyes.

When Logan wrapped his arms around him and tugged him against his chest, he went reluctantly, his body stiff.

"What happened back there?" Logan whispered against his moist cheek.

"Nothing much, just more bits of my past that Manticore ripped out of my head," Alec spat, eyes closed against the cascade of memories assaulting his senses just like they had with Rachel.

"So you're not my brother's son?" Sam interrupted.

Max blurred and had Sam pinned to the wall almost before he could blink.

"Don't, Max, it's not his fault," Alec said, lifting his face from Logan's shoulder and stepping away. "You and my da--Dean were my first assignment. Manticore wanted to make sure you weren't in the area to stick your noses into their business. When my mission was over, they took me away and wiped my memory. Then I saw you in Crash--"

"Jack," Sam started, rubbing his graying beard.

"Alec," he corrected.

"Alec, you couldn't have been more than eight-years-old," Sam said.

"Doesn't matter. All I had to do was listen and report back. It wasn't rocket science."

***The End***


End file.
